


electric heart

by inkin_brushes



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Chobits, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-10-15 22:22:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10558656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkin_brushes/pseuds/inkin_brushes
Summary: Kyungsoo finds a Persocom in the trash and, against his better judgement, takes it home (because Jongdae is a bad friend and a terrible enabler).READ THIS U DINGLEBERRIES I DON’T WANT ANYONE YELLING AT ME WHEN THEY FINISH READING THE FIC:This fic is UNFINISHED and DISCONTINUED. It was originally going to be anywhere between 5 to 10 parts in length but for various reasons i lost steam on it. Rather than just tossing it out (i had like 12k written when I lost my vibe) i decided to finish writing the scenes i had, and tried to wrap it up so even tho it isnt finished/complete, it still could potentially be a little stand alone fic. but! yeah.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I started this fic... I don’t even remember. Quite a while back. I’d been wanting to write a chobits!au for years, i half-heartedly started planning a qmi one ages ago but never actually started writing it, then EXO came along and i thought kaisoo would fit into one really well.

Kyungsoo had his cold hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie as he walked briskly away from the coffee shop where he worked. There were a pair of cheap earbuds jammed haphazardly into his ears, blasting music tinnily out. From inside his hoodie pocket, his icy fingertips toggled the volume so the dulcet tones of Gee weren’t quite so deafening.

It began to drizzle, nothing too bad, just enough to make Kyungsoo groan. He pulled his hood up as the tiny droplets began to stick to his hair. He couldn’t wait until he could afford a car. There were days he contemplated using his savings on a new apartment instead, but for the most part he was fairly happy with where he lived. It was small, but he lived alone, so it wasn’t too much of an issue. And a car would make his life so much easier.

Street lamps began flickering on as Kyungsoo made his way down the block. There was a woman holding a young boy’s hand and carrying an umbrella walking toward Kyungsoo, her shoes clicking on the pavement. She seemed agitated and more concerned with covering her child’s head with the umbrella than her own. As they went by, Kyungsoo caught sight of the ports on either side of the boy’s head where his ears should have been. They were blue, and triangular in shape, casing shiny and a little on the large side. He was an outmoded model then, and probably not a waterproof one, if his owner’s behavior was any indication.

The Persocom waved at him, smiling, and Kyungsoo waved back, out of habit. Outmoded or not, it was a recent enough model to be disturbingly lifelike. Nowadays, they all were. The connection ports were the only thing that made them distinguishable from actual people. They didn’t really need them any more, the technology had advanced so far the ports could be made obsolete, but a government mandate kept them there. Since some people were already trying to pass their Persocoms off as human, there had to be a way to immediately identify a ‘Com, they’d said.

Kyungsoo wasn’t sure he understood the hype. He supposed in a way, they were convenient. They were walking, talking computers, able to look up anything and everything on a whim, and the extra pair of hands were great for chores. And Persocoms never complained. From what Kyungsoo understood, their default programming didn’t allow them to. Of course, there were different personality packs an owner could install, and the vast majority of them did, so each ‘Com was a bit different. People who were particularly tech savvy could alter their ‘Com’s personality themselves.

Yes, definitely convenient, if a little odd. Companionship you could tweak to suit your exact needs. And then there was the added bonus of them being computers. He could see the appeal in that.

Kyungsoo shook himself, realizing he’d stopped walking. He looked up and down the street before bolting across the road, pulling his hood back up when it fell. There was no point musing about Persocoms; they were on the pricey side, and he couldn’t afford one. He wasn’t sure he’d even want one anyway.

The drizzle let up a bit, so Kyungsoo stopped walking so quickly. He skipped the anime theme song that came happily blaring out of his earbuds and settled on an old DBSK song, singing the lyrics softly under his breath. He cut down an alleyway so he wouldn’t have to go around the whole block. His rendition of Rising Sun melted off into a shriek once he got to the opposite side of the alley.

There was a dumpster there, which wasn’t new. Piled at its base were bags full of trash some people had been too lazy to lift and actually toss into the dumpster, which was also not new. What was new was the body barely even hidden underneath the trash bags.

Kyungsoo bumped into the brick wall of the nearest building in his haste to back away from the body, his scream tapering off. He ripped his ear buds out, heart hammering as he tried to catch his breath. Music was still coming out of the tiny speakers, and Kyungsoo hit pause. Then the only sound was the faint hum of cars out on the street.

After a few beats he felt steady enough to edge forward. Very carefully, he stuck a foot out and nudged one of the trash bags aside with his toe. The bag fell, its contents spilling out, and with it out of the way the light from the nearest lamp illuminated the body’s upper half, including its face. Even though Kyungsoo felt like he might throw up, he reached out to check for a pulse, just in case, and as he did so he got close enough to see the earports on the body’s head. It was a Persocom. Kyungsoo let out a huge sigh, sinking down to his haunches so he could put his head down on his knees for a moment.

The ‘Com’s ports were no larger than they legally had to be, so about the size of a normal ear, and barely domed at all. Combined with the fact that they were a matte black, they blended seamlessly into the Com’s hair. Kyungsoo took a moment to be angry about that, because if the ports had been more obvious, he wouldn’t have just almost had a heart attack thinking he’d stumbled upon an exceedingly badly hidden dead body.

“What kind of idiot just dumps a ‘Com on the street,” Kyungsoo muttered. He gave it a sweeping glance, shoving the other trash bags off to better see. It was in rather good shape, Kyungsoo thought, no visible damage to really lend a reason as to why it had been dumped here. And it _had_ been dumped. The ‘Com was fully dressed, but its clothes were filthy and ripped, and its skin was covered in a layer of grime from sitting out here for what Kyungsoo estimated to be days, hair matted with God only knew what.

“Blegh,” Kyungsoo said, wrinkling his nose. He stood, hand delving into his hoodie pocket for his phone. It was clunky, keys tiny, but cheap, and Kyungsoo needed cheap. He scrolled through his contacts and pressed ‘talk’ when he hit _Dickhead_.

After two rings the line clicked. “You’ve reached the temple on omnipotence, how may I assist you, mortal?”

“You’re not funny, Jongdae,” Kyungsoo said, rubbing his temple with his free hand.

“Yes I am,” Jongdae replied airily. “What’s up? We’re eating dinner.” Kyungsoo heard a second voice pipe up, but there was too much static to hear what was said. “Junmyeon says hello.”

“Tell him hey.” Kyungsoo waited for that to be relayed before saying, “I found a ‘Com.”

“You _found_ a ‘Com?”

“Yeah, tossed by a dumpster. It’s in really good shape, I thought maybe you might want it?” Jongdae owned a tech repair shop, and he dealt with Persocoms for the most part. “If it’s been tossed it probably doesn’t work any more, but there’s always parts to be salvaged, right?”

“Definitely,” Jongdae said indistinctly, clearly having just taken a bite out of whatever food he was eating. Kyungsoo made a face. “I don’t suppose you know what kind of model it is?” His tone said he already knew the answer to that. Kyungsoo was technologically impaired for the most part, it wasn’t a secret.

“No,” Kyungsoo sniffed. “It isn’t a model I’ve seen before, not mass produced in the stores.”

“There’s a lot of models you haven’t been before, Kyungsoo. Is it a boy or girl? What kind of ports does it have?”

“Male frame,” Kyungsoo answered. “The ports are small and black, not shiny.”

“Hmm. I’ll have to take a look, but yeah, I want it. Bring it back to your apartment, I’ll swing by for it in the morning.”

“What?” Kyungsoo squawked indignantly. “No. You’re the one who wants it, come and get it. I am still six blocks from my house and this ‘Com is big, definitely taller than me. I am not dragging it all the way home.”

“It’s not difficult to be taller than you, Kyungsoo.” Jongdae snickered, and Kyungsoo thought about pointing out that Jongdae really had no business making short jokes, but Jongdae spoke again before he could. “But _fine_.” He sounded intensely put upon. “I will come retrieve this mysterious ‘Com, thereby cutting my romantic dinner with my boyfriend short, all because you are heartless and won’t do me this simple favor.”

“Oh, shove it, you two live together,” Kyungsoo muttered. “I called you, now hurry up. I’ll wait here so I can help you load it into your car because I am so nice. But if it starts raining again, which it looks like it is soon, I am going to take off, and then you’re on your own.” Kyungsoo eyed the darkening sky critically.

“Where are you?”

“At the mouth of that alley right beside the really good dukbokki place on 5th Street.”

“Be there in a couple of minutes. Guard this mysterious treasure find with your life.” He hung up.

Kyungsoo pocketed his phone, and it made a noise as it clunked against his iPod. He sighed and began using his foot to clear the trash away from the ‘Com. He’d just kicked away the last soda can when Jongdae pulled up in his little car, headlights blinding. He left the car on as he stepped out, dramatically shivering as he walked to Kyungsoo’s side.

“Oh, wow, you weren’t kidding when you said he was in good shape,” Jongdae said. He kneeled down, grabbed one of the ‘Com’s wrists and lifted so he could examine the arm.

“You can look it over at the shop,” Kyungsoo griped. “Let’s go before it rains.”

“Yeah, alright, let me just pop the trunk.” Once he’d done that, he grabbed the ‘Com under the armpits, and Kyungsoo awkwardly grabbed its behind the knees. “Lift,” Jongdae said, heaving upwards. It was much heavier than Kyungsoo had anticipated, and by the time they managed to plop it into the trunk of the car Kyungsoo was panting from the effort. Jongdae shoved the ‘Com’s bare foot inside and then closed the door. “Come on, we’ll get him into the shop and then I’ll drive you home.” It had just begun to rain again, so Kyungsoo thought that was a fair deal.

The drive to Jongdae’s repair shop was a short one, and the tiny parking lot it shared with a nail salon and a convenience store was mostly empty. Jongdae ran out quickly to unlock and prop open the door, then came back to help Kyungsoo with the ‘Com.

“It feels even heavier now,” Kyungsoo said breathlessly as they scrambled across the pavement and through the open door. “Where are we putting it?”

“In the back.” They bumped into a few shelves on accident, and once in the back they had to stop once so Jongdae could awkwardly flick the lights in the hallway on with his elbow. “Repair room,” Jongdae said, and Kyungsoo obediently followed him into possibly the creepiest room in existence. There was a metal table in the center of the room that never failed to remind Kyungsoo of the coroner’s tables they always had in cop shows, and for all Kyungsoo knew it actually _was_ a coroner’s table. He wouldn’t be surprised. There were tools around, laid out on the counter against the far wall, beside a normal computer with a large monitor, but the creepy bit came in from the parts Jongdae just left lying around. There were, collectively, enough parts leaned up against the walls to assemble around three ‘Coms, and most of them still had the synthetic flesh on them, making them look too human. It gave Kyungsoo the shivers.

“Stop being such a baby,” Jongdae said as if he could read Kyungsoo’s mind, starting to pant himself now. “Table.” Kyungsoo heaved, grunting, and together they managed to get the ‘Com on the creepy metal coroner table. Now that he was unburdened, Jongdae turned on the lights, and after the dim watery lighting of the hall’s light, the bright white fluorescents made Kyungsoo blink.

Jongdae went back to the table and gave a low whistle. “Well, he’s an abnormally good-looking model.”

“They’re always good-looking,” Kyungsoo said, but silently he agreed. There were no ugly Persocoms, but this one was particularly striking, even covered in grime like it was. Its skin was dark, emulating a healthy tan, and its lips were full, jawline sharp. The rest of its frame was a nice shape too, Kyungsoo thought, erring neither on the side of bulky nor scrawny. There was a certain attention to detail about it, down to its trimmed fingernails. This was an expensive ‘Com.

Jongdae began examining it, and Kyungsoo didn’t complain. He was getting slightly curious. Jongdae inspected the arms before moving to the feet, prodding at the bottoms, then back up to roll it onto its side, brushing at the back of its neck. “What are you doing?” Kyungsoo asked.

“Looking for a serial number,” Jongdae said absently. “He might have one only visible under a blacklight, and I’ll check that in a moment, but I don’t think there’s going to be one at all. This looks like a custom job.” He let the ‘Com fall onto its back again and prodded one of the earports, and it slid open smoothly with a click. “Water proof, and a recent model. No serial.” He slid it closed. “I’m going to rinse him off quickly and see if there’s a serial I missed, then I’ll take you home?” Kyungsoo nodded. The table had a sink at one end, the end beside the ‘Com’s feet, and the nozzle was the detachable kind with a hose.

Jongdae went to the long counter where all his tools were, shuffled around, and came back with a pair of scissors. He began cutting at the ‘Com’s tattered shirt. Kyungsoo felt his face turning red as the dirty fabric fell away.

“Oh,” Jongdae said, sounding only mildly surprised. “He’s an anatomically correct model.”

“Huh?” Kyungsoo asked, watching as Jongdae pulled the scraps of material away from the ‘Com’s torso. Its frame was lovely, and undamaged. Kyungsoo once again found himself wondering why it had been dumped.

“He’s got nipples,” Jongdae said as an explanation.

“Yes, it does,” Kyungsoo mumbled, turning even redder as Jongdae began cutting the ‘Com’s ripped jeans away.

“Oh, _very_ anatomically correct.” Kyungsoo glanced over and then looked away again quickly. He shouldn’t be embarrassed, he knew. It wasn’t even a person, just metal and plastic and rubber and who knew what else shaped to look like one. And he’d known anatomically correct models existed before this. He had never seen a nude one before, but he’d seen the non-anatomically correct ones. They were mildly creepy, with smooth crotches and chests, no belly-buttons either. It all depended on preference, he supposed, and what the ‘Com’s function was going to be.

The snipping sounds stopped and then Jongdae turned the sink on, the sound of spraying water echoing in the room. Kyungsoo turned to watch, curiosity getting the better of him. He kept his eyes fixed firmly above the ‘Com’s belly-button. He was lucky Jongdae was so focused on his work, otherwise he’d be teasing Kyungsoo mercilessly for his embarrassment.

As the dirt washed away, water gurgling down the drain, the ‘Com’s skin turned more golden. With its hair slicked back away from its face, it was even more lovely. Kyungsoo thought its hair might actually be dark brown, not black as he’d initially thought. Jongdae rolled it over, spraying all the while. Kyungsoo went back to staring at the wall.

There was a thump and then the sound of the water stopped. Kyungsoo turned back as Jongdae picked up a handheld blacklight and waved it over the ‘Com’s back. Nothing showed up. Jongdae rolled the ‘Com onto its back, ran the blacklight over its front, and still nothing. “Nope,” Jongdae said, switching the blacklight off. “There’s no serial, and he’s in eerily good shape too. Considering he was out with the trash for a few days, I was expecting some external damage.”

“Why do you think someone got rid of it?” Kyungsoo asked curiously, peering down at the ‘Com’s face. There were water droplets clinging to the ‘Com’s dark eyelashes.

Jongdae shrugged. “His frame is fine, so it might be something internal. He might have mobility issues or a fried motherboard that needs replacing. I won’t know until I open him up, but I’ll do that tomorrow between jobs.”

Kyungsoo frowned. “It’s weird though, isn’t it? We never find ‘Coms like this just lying around.”

“It is. He’s a custom job, so someone paid a lot of money for him. It’s weird that if they could afford that, they wouldn’t shell out the cash to fix him, but whatever. I’m not complaining.” Jongdae put the blacklight back on the counter and picked up his keys. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

“You’re just going to leave it like that?” Kyungsoo asked, blushing anew.

Jongdae rolled his eyes. “He’s a ‘Com, Kyungsoo. They aren’t people.”

Kyungsoo still thought it was slightly indecent, but he followed Jongdae out of the room without any more protest, flicking the lights off as he went, leaving the ‘Com in darkness behind them.

\----

A good hour before his alarm was set to go off, Kyungsoo was awoken by the feeling that he was suffocating. Upon opening his eyes, he saw his rather fat white cat, Bun, curled up on his chest, purring happily. “We’ve had this discussion before,” Kyungsoo groaned, shoving Bun off of himself, “you’re too fat to be sleeping on me.”

Bun headbutted his shoulder, wanting to be petted, and Kyungsoo sighed heavily before scratching behind Bun’s ears. Once his tribute to his cat was paid, he sat up, stretching, then leaned over and switched his alarm off. He was awake, might as well get up.

He turned the coffee maker on before hopping into the shower quickly. He’d gotten the coffee maker as a gift from Jongdae and Junmyeon a few years ago, a couple months after Kyungsoo had first started working at the coffee shop Junmyeon managed. Jongdae had said now that he was a barista, what he clearly needed more than anything was a coffee maker for his house, because, you know, he wouldn’t be getting enough of it at work. Kyungsoo honestly hadn’t minded. He liked coffee.

Once he was clean and dressed he poured himself a mug of coffee and fried up an egg. Bun began kneading at his thigh when he was sitting at the chipped table, claws pricking, and meowing incessantly. “You know you’re on a diet,” Kyungsoo said around a mouthful of egg and toast. “But don’t worry, I’ll feed you before I go.” Bun flopped over onto his side, eyes baleful as he watched Kyungsoo quickly rinse off his plate.

Kyungsoo pulled his tattered hoodie over his head, dismayed when his hair was left frizzing up from the static. He pressed it down, looking in the mirror, before surrendering. “Whatever,” he muttered. Bun was weaving around his legs by this point, positively frantic that he might be left without sustenance. Kyungsoo poured him a carefully measured amount of food, and thought the amount looked somewhat paltry, but it was, apparently, plenty for a day. He’d been way overfeeding Bun, as it turned out, and the cat now looked somewhat balloonish from overeating.

Bun sat beside his food dish, eyes accusing as Kyungsoo pulled on his shoes. He was not happy with his new rations. “You’ll live,” Kyungsoo said, and then he let himself out of his apartment.

As he walked to work he texted Jongdae, asking him to send him updates about the ‘Com from last night. Kyungsoo had to admit, he wasn’t a huge fan of ‘Coms, but his curiosity had definitely been piqued.

It was on the early side but the shop was already open, Junmyeon wiping down the tables with a cloth. “Morning, Kyungsoo,” Junmyeon said with a wide smile as walked in.

“Hey,” Kyungsoo replied, pulling his deep green apron off a hook from behind the counter and putting it on. “I thought Chanyeol was coming in today.”

“He is, he’s just late, as usual.” Junmyeon rolled his eyes. “I thought I’d stop by and tidy up a bit before we got the morning rush.”

Kyungsoo tied his apron’s strings behind his back deftly. “Sorry for interrupting your dinner with Jongdae last night.”

Junmyeon snorted. “We were eating Chinese takeout. Chinese takeout from _two days ago_.” He tossed the cloth into the sink behind the counter. “You weren’t really interrupting anything.” He grabbed his keys and looked up, to the door. “Ah, just in time.”

Kyungsoo followed his gaze to see Chanyeol dramatically careening through the doorway, dark chestnut hair windswept. The bell over the door jingled enthusiastically. “Sorry! I know I’m late.”

“You’re always late,” Junmyeon said absently as he shrugged on his coat. “I’m leaving. I’ll be back later.” As he went through the door he flipped the sign from ‘closed’ to ‘open’.

Chanyeol saluted him and then went back to trying to undo the knots in his apron’s strings. Kyungsoo sighed. “Here,” he said, taking the apron from Chanyeol so he could work at the knots.

“Thanks,” Chanyeol chirped, hauling himself up to sit on the counter. His longs legs swung a bit, converse clad feet just missing kicking Kyungsoo’s legs. “What were you two talking about? Were you badmouthing me?”

“No, we weren’t, and no one wants your butt up there, Chanyeol.” Kyungsoo tossed the apron in Chanyeol’s lap, knot-free.

“Then what were you talking about?” Chanyeol asked again, not one to be deterred. He poked Kyungsoo’s butt with his shoe.

Kyungsoo brought the edge of his hand down on Chanyeol’s shin, and Chanyeol immediately took his foot away. “I was apologizing. I interrupted him having dinner with Jongdae last night. I found a ‘Com and thought they might want it for the repair shop.”

Chanyeol’s legs stopped swinging. “You found a ‘Com? Where?”

“In a dumpster. Or, well, near a dumpster. While I was walking home.”

“Isn’t that illegal, just dumping a ‘Com any place?”

“Yep.”

Chanyeol opened his mouth to ask more, but the bell jingled, and a customer came in. Chanyeol slid off the counter to take the man’s order, carefully counting out his change. Kyungsoo made the drink, as was their system. It had quickly become apparent that Chanyeol tended to make drinks the way he liked them, and not necessarily as the customer did. And Chanyeol didn’t like a bit of sugar in his coffee so much as he liked a bit of coffee in his sugar.

More and more people trickled in, and they didn’t get a chance to really talk again until a few hours later. In a brief lull Chanyeol stole one of Junmyeon’s homemade muffins out of the display case and ran into the back to eat it quickly. “Sorry,” Chanyeol said indistinctly when he came back, mouth full of blueberry goodness. “I didn’t eat breakfast.”

“Can you swallow please,” Kyungsoo said in disgust, wiping slobbery crumbs off his apron.

Chanyeol swallowed. “Sorry,” he repeated.

“Why didn’t you eat? What do you _do_ all morning? Do you just oversleep?”

“No,” Chanyeol sniffed. “I visit the shop. The used goods shop.”

“Still?” Kyungsoo shook his head a little, a small smile on his face. “I’m surprised it hasn’t sold yet. And that you’re still even interested.”

“I am a single paycheck away from being able to afford him.” Chanyeol held up a finger, shaking it for emphasis. “One. Soon, Kyungsoo. Soon.” He sighed happily.

“What if its broken? Or just not up to scratch? It’s an older model.”

“Why are you trying to pop my bubble?” Chanyeol whined.

Kyungsoo patted him. “I’m not,” he said honestly. “I know how much you want it, and how excited you’ve been. I just don’t want you to get cheated, especially not after saving up for so long.”

“The shop owner says he’s in alright condition, he’s just used, and outmoded. I don’t mind that though.” Chanyeol bounced a little. “And even if he is broken, Jongdae can fix him for me.”

“He can,” Kyungsoo agreed, finishing the conversation since a customer had just come in.

As Kyungsoo made a caramel frappuccino, ice crunching in the blender loudly, he thought about Chanyeol and his rather endearing determination to buy the small Persocom he’d discovered a few months ago in the used goods store down the street. Chanyeol had always liked browsing stores like that, enjoyed tinkering with things that were slightly worn down, finding use in things people cast aside.

Every once in a while, a thrift store would have a used Persocom, but they were almost always broken. People like Jongdae bought those, people who knew how to use the parts, and those ones were always cheap. A used but functioning ‘Com was rare, and they costed significantly less than their pristine, fresh out of the box counterparts, but all things considered, they still weren’t _cheap_ , and this one was no exception. But something about it had caught Chanyeol’s eye enough all those months ago to begin the arduous process of saving up enough to buy it. Kyungsoo sometimes thought Chanyeol had actually begun to forego buying food so he could put more money away.

Kyungsoo was a bit worried about him, but they got paid in two days. Then Chanyeol could buy the ‘Com and go back to inhaling large quantities of food as per usual. And, hopefully, his purchase would be worth it.

In the afternoon Junmyeon came back to work the later shift. Sehun came trailing in not long after, eyes sleepy, and with the two of them there, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo could leave for the day. Sehun was a recent addition, one of Chanyeol’s many friends, and Kyungsoo rather liked him. They didn’t get paired up much, but he was easier to handle than Chanyeol so far. Sometimes Kyungsoo thought that rather than getting paid to make coffee, he was getting paid to babysit Chanyeol.

“Jongdae wants to see you,” Junmyeon said to Kyungsoo. He put his apron on, partially covering the hideous sweater he was wearing. Thankfully. “Something about the ‘Com from last night. Stop by the shop on your way home?”

Kyungsoo blinked. “He hasn’t texted me at all,” he said slowly, pulling his phone out to double check.

“No, he’s having issues.” Junmyeon chuckled. “It’s been a long time since a ‘Com’s given him such trouble. I think an occasional challenge is good, keeps him learning. When I popped in to see him he looked ready to chuck something.”

“I didn’t mean to cause problems,” Kyungsoo mumbled.

“You didn’t. He enjoys messing with stuff like this, he’s just not used to not being able to make them bend to his will. Go see him, yeah?”

“Sure,” Kyungsoo said.

“Can I come?” Chanyeol asked.

“If you must,” Kyungsoo said, mock-annoyed.

Chanyeol pushed him gently. “I want to see this mysterious ‘Com. Also the used goods store is on the way to Jongdae’s shop.” They walked out of the coffee shop together and down the block, Kyungsoo lagging a bit because Chanyeol forgot his legs were longer, so he’d leap ahead, remember to slow down, then leap again.

“You’re going to make me go into the used goods store and wait around while you coo at your ‘Com, aren’t you?” Kyungsoo accused.

“Yes,” replied Chanyeol decisively. He grabbed Kyungsoo by the arm and steered him into the store. It was dim inside, and smelled a bit musty, but the overall ambience was warm. Chanyeol bounded forward, past racks of clothes, shelves of books, and baskets full of toys, knowing the way quite well.

The ‘Com odds and ends were at the back, and shoved into the corner, draped in a wooden chair like an oversized doll, was Chanyeol’s Persocom.

“He’s still here,” Chanyeol said ecstatically, gesturing like Kyungsoo couldn’t see this fact for himself. The ‘Com’s tousled brown hair was getting dusty, and Kyungsoo reached out to gently brush it away as best he could. After Chanyeol bought it, they’d have to take it to Jongdae for a cleaning and a once over. Kyungsoo moved down to brush the dust off its cheekbones, reflecting on how real the skin felt, even though it was cool to the touch. He knew once it was on, it would be warm, mimicking a human body temperature. The newer models could adjust their temperatures to their owner’s preference, but Kyungsoo wasn’t sure this model was recent enough to have that function.

“He’s so pretty,” Chanyeol said happily, reaching out to help brush more dust away.

Kyungsoo’s lips quirked. “Yes, it is.” He wasn’t sure what exactly had caught Chanyeol’s eye so much. The ‘Com was attractive, but nothing he would have been drawn to. It was small, probably a little smaller than Kyungsoo, with a slim male frame that got a bit curvier towards the thighs. Its face was the sweet, generic type of face that most factory made ‘Coms had, though Kyungsoo had never seen this particular model before. White, triangular ports stuck out just a little too far on either side of its head, exposing the fact that it was an older model. The hands were a bit delicate for a male frame, fingers tapering elegantly, and combined with the full thighs it made Kyungsoo think the ‘Com might have been altered a bit by its previous owner.

Chanyeol grabbed an ugly plaid blanket off a nearby shelf, unfolding it and draping it over the ‘Com, hiding its upper half and the ‘Sale’ sign around its neck. “There,” Chanyeol said, standing back to survey his work. “Now no one will find him and buy him before I do.”

“You always do that,” Kyungsoo said, side-eyeing his tall friend, “and they always uncover him the minute you leave.”

“Shush.” Chanyeol patted the ‘Com gently before they left, sighing wistfully.

“I guess you’re going to be running straight to buy him after you get paid this Friday, huh?” Kyungsoo asked. He put his hands in his pockets as a cold breeze blew down the street, scattering leaves and litter.

“Yep.” Chanyeol nodded his head once, a sharp motion. Kyungsoo smiled slightly.

Jongdae’s shop door was unlocked, the neon ‘open’ sign flicked on, but upon stepping inside the shop was empty, no one behind the counter. “Jongdae,” Kyungsoo called, craning up on his tiptoes to try and see over the shelves.

“I don’t see him,” Chanyeol said, patting Kyungsoo on the head.

“He must be working in the back then.” Kyungsoo shook Chanyeol’s hand off his head, side-eyeing him a bit as he led the way through the door in the back wall that read ‘Employees Only’. 

“Jongdae,” Kyungsoo called again, walking down the thin hallway. He poked his head into the workshop, immediately spotting Jongdae huddled in front of the computer, typing furiously and muttering to himself. He had a pair of bulky headphones on. Kyungsoo looked around, seeing the ‘Com was right where it had been the previous night, but now both its earports were open, and thick, differently colored wires were spilling out from both of them, most connecting to the computer Jongdae was working at. One black wire snaked away, and Kyungsoo saw the end was a plug, stuck in a power outlet on the wall. “ _Jongdae_.” There was no response.

Chanyeol exaggeratingly tiptoed past Kyungsoo, edging right up to the back of Jongdae’s chair. Then he slapped both his hands down onto Jongdae’s shoulders, fairly screaming, “Jongdae!”

Jongdae jumped, shrieking, and turned sharply so he ended up elbowing Chanyeol in the stomach. He ripped his headphones off, and they clattered down onto the counter as Chanyeol doubled over, wheezing from both pain and laughter. “You’re an asshole,” Jongdae fumed. He put a hand over his heart, taking a deep breath.

“We tried calling for you,” Kyungsoo said as Chanyeol continued to cackle merrily. He was fighting back a smile.

“Don’t be so grumpy,” Chanyeol said, poking Jondae in the cheek. Jongdae took a snap at his finger. “You’ll get me back. You always do.”

“Please don’t put any tabasco sauce in his face wash again,” Kyungsoo said hurriedly. “The rash put our customers off their appetite.” 

Jongdae sniffed. “I won’t. I’ll just program his Persocom to scream profanities at the top of its lungs at really, really inconvenient times.”

Chanyeol stopped laughing, looking stricken. “Please don’t do anything mean to Baekhyun.”

“You’ve named it already?” Kyungsoo asked, eyebrows raising.

Chanyeol’s cheeks turned rosy. “No. I’ve just been thinking about it, and I think that’s what I’d like to call him, after I get him.” He cleared his throat. “Please don’t do anything mean to him, Jondgae, I will never sneak up on you again.”

Jongdae ran a hand through his hair. “I won’t. I wouldn’t. I know how important this is to you. I’m just in a crappy mood.”

“What’s wrong?”

Jongdae gestured at the ‘Com laying on the table. “Him.”

“He’s pretty,” Chanyeol chirped, head tilting to the side. “And naked.” Kyungsoo groaned.

“That’s not the problem,” Jongdae said, turning back to the computer monitor, “ _this_ is.” He began typing rapidly for a few seconds, before slamming his hands down with a noise of frustration. “I surrender.”

Chanyeol had walked over and begun prodding at the ‘Com curiously, but Kyungsoo went to Jongdae’s side, peering at the computer screen. He couldn’t make heads nor tails of what he was seeing. “Uhm?”

“I opened him up,” Jongdae said, resuming his typing even though he’d said he surrendered, “and he’s in pristine condition. There is nothing wrong with his frame, inside or out. I thought I’d hit the jackpot.”

“So why was he left--” Kyungsoo began, but Jongdae cut him off.

“Because this, _this_ \--” he paused in his explanation to growl, apparently not having a swear word to accurately depict his frustrations. “I can’t access his programming. Not any of it.”

“It’s password protected or something?” Kyungsoo asked innocently, honestly not really understanding. He didn’t know anything about Persocoms aside from the very basics.

Jongdae actually paused in his typing to give Kyungsoo a scathing look. “No. It is not password protected. How do I explain this so you and your general technologically illiterate mind will understand. His-- brain, okay, we’ll call it his brain, where all his general personality settings are, as well as where his catalogued memories would be, if he has any, is completely inaccessible to me. It’s like there’s a smooth seamless shell around all the information, and for the life of me, I cannot break into it. I have had to deal with firewalls before, but this is like-- there’s nothing there, but I know there is, it’s just completely out of my reach.”

“And what does this mean?” Kyungsoo said slowly, deducing well enough that this definitely wasn’t good.

“It means I have no idea what his-- brain. His brain is like.” Jongdae sighed, shoulders slumping. “I don’t know what his personality is, if he even _has_ one, and whether it’s been altered or is generic. I don’t know if he’s been reset, and if he hasn’t been, he’ll still have his old memories, you see, and no one wants a ‘Com with memories of a previous owner. People like starting fresh. I can’t even get far in enough to reset him myself. And to be honest, his frame is such a custom job, that there’s no way he hasn’t got a custom personality too. I would be willing to bet someone went in and did some serious tinkering, maybe even went completely off the preset settings and coded him themselves. And I cannot sell a ‘Com like this. I cannot sell a ‘Com with an unknown personality, one potentially with memories, that is also unalterable.” He turned to Kyungsoo with a frenzied look. “No one wants to buy a Persocom they can’t fit to their needs Kyungsoo, _that is the point of Persocoms_.”

Kyungsoo blinked, looking over to the ‘Com. Chanyeol was mooshing its face, entertaining himself. “So, what will you do?”

Jongdae shut his computer down and began unplugging all the wires. He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll need to remove his-- brain. Since there isn’t anything I can do with it, he’ll need another. I could buy a new one and replace the one he has, but they’re expensive, Kyungsoo, and I am unsure if I’ll be able to sell him for enough to make it worth it. If not, I could just sell his frame, it’s a nice one, but it won’t go for much on its own.” He heaved a sigh.

“Have you turned it on?” Chanyeol asked, and Jongdae blinked.

“No? I shouldn’t need to. All programming can be done before properly starting the unit. That is how it’s supposed to be done. If I start him up now, he’ll immediately begin cataloguing, and then he will have memories, and like I said, I can’t reset him to erase those.”

“But you said you weren’t going to use his brain, so really, what have you got to lose?” Chanyeol pointed out. “And maybe he’s a weird ‘Com that needs to be on to program.”

Jongdae rubbed his nose thoughtfully. Kyungsoo was almost hoping Jongdae would boot him up, just because he was beyond curious by this point. In the end though, Jongdae shook his head. “I don’t feel like dealing with a newly started ‘Com tonight, especially when I don’t know what he’s going to act like. And then I might not be able to shut him down right away, and I couldn’t leave him here unattended, not knowing whether or not he’ll obey my instructions. And I cannot take him home.” There was an edge of unease in Jongdae now. Kyungsoo knew that despite the fact that Jongdae worked with ‘Coms a lot, he and Junmyeon were very reluctant to bring a running one into their home. It wasn’t something either of them were willing to talk about, however.

“I’m so curious though!” Chanyeol whined. “What if I take him home tonight and start him up for you?”

“No.” Jongdae deadpanned. “You’ll ruin him.” Kyungsoo silently breathed a sigh of relief.

Chanyeol pouted, then turned on Kyungsoo. “Maybe Kyungsoo could take him home. He is the one who found him, after all. Maybe it was fate.”

Kyungsoo gurgled, shaking his head and looking to Jongdae for support, but Jongdae just seemed thoughtful. “I could do that.”

“What?” Kyungsoo asked incredulously.

“I was thinking about giving him to you anyway, since you found him. Or at least offering. At this point, he doesn’t seem like he’s going to be making me much money. Instead of putting in a ton of work trying to make him sellable, I could just give him to you? You never know, his programming may suit you. And if it doesn’t you can bring him back, and then I will just remove his brain and sell his frame, I guess.” Jongdae shrugged. “It’s just an offer. A ‘Com is convenient to have.”

“What if his programming is to be an axe murderer?” Kyungsoo asked, blanching.

“That would be really pointless,” Jongdae replied. He rolled his eyes. “Do you want him or not?”

“I--” Kyungsoo began, before snapping his mouth shut and staring down at the ‘Com’s face. His first reaction was to decline. Jongdae could use the parts, and Kyungsoo didn’t even know what he’d do with a ‘Com. But then again, something like this would probably never happen again, and ‘Coms were so expensive, he’d most likely never be able to afford one. Also, after everything Jongdae had just said, he was exceedingly curious.

And the ‘Com’s upper lip was shaped so enticingly.

“Alright,” Kyungsoo said. “I’ll take it home.”

\----

Kyungsoo was sitting on the edge of his rickety coffee table, a giant tattered manual in his lap. Jongdae had thrust it into his arms, saying he’d need it back by the end of the week, and Kyungsoo had squawked because the thing was practically a _tome_. Across from him, synthetic hand almost brushing Kyungsoo’s knees, the Persocom lay, flung haphazardly down upon his sofa by Jongdae and Chanyeol. It was wearing a pair of frayed, washed out grey sweatpants that were a few sizes too small, waistband digging into the ‘Com’s hips and legs a couple of inches too short, exposing the ‘Com’s ankles and some of its calves. Jongdae had managed to dig them up after Kyungsoo had protested carrying the ‘Com about naked.

“You’re such a prude,” Jongdae had said with a roll of his eyes.

“I don’t think not wanting to carry what looks like an unconscious naked boy into my apartment while anyone could see makes me a prude. And I don’t think it makes me a prude that I don’t want its-- its--” 

Kyungsoo had motioned to the ‘Com’s crotch, and Jongdae had jumped in and said, “Cock.”

“Yes, that. It doesn’t make me a prude that I don’t want its, its _cock_ flapping about in the wind.” Kyungsoo had looked down at the ‘Com’s toes resolutely.

“Bless him, he’s blushing,” Jongdae had said with a fond sigh. “Fine, I’ll find him some pants.”

Once the ‘Com’s nether regions had been properly covered, they’d begun the arduous process of moving it from Jongdae’s shop to Kyungsoo’s apartment. Chanyeol had thwacked his head on the doorjamb at one point, but otherwise it had gone fairly easily. After that he’d made noises about hanging around until the ringing in his ears cleared, but Kyungsoo wasn’t fooled. He’d packed Chanyeol back into Jongdae’s car and watched the both of them drive away, and then sat down to flip through the manual. Over an hour later, he was still sitting there.

He’d gotten through the basics of start-up, and it all looked fairly simple, even for him. A ’Com when first powered up would be in default, computer state, needing some key information given by verbal commands to get it running properly. According to the manual, it would wake, sit up, and request the identity of its owner, as well as its own name, and a whole host of other smaller details. Kyungsoo could change these answers later, supposedly, if he needed to. Once all that was out of the way and the ‘Com had catalogued it all, it would switch over to its personality programming, whatever _that_ was, and act accordingly. The manual then went into basic personality packs versus customized ones, but Kyungsoo had stopped reading at that point. He didn’t know what kind of personality the ‘Com had. So he’d skipped right to the verbal commands page, learning the basics. If the ‘Com proved to be troublesome, he could verbally order it powered off, or simply flip its switch if he could get to it.

Kyungsoo yawned, slamming the manual shut and setting it aside. “I’ll get you set up and go to sleep,” he murmured, combing through the ‘Com’s hair so he could get to its earport. He gently pressed at the bottom rim of it and it slid open, baring the ‘Com’s charging port as well as a few others Kyungsoo had read about and promptly forgotten. The charging one was the only one he needed to know about anyway.

The power switch was small and a deep blue. It took Kyungsoo a moment to find it. It was a little hard to get at, but Kyungsoo was able to flip it with a blunt nail. A soft _whrrrr_ noise reached his ears, coming from the ‘Com, and its earport slid shut without him having to do anything. For a beat nothing happened, then the gentle hum stopped, and the ‘Com’s eyes blinked open.

Kyungsoo waited for it to sit up, for it to begin requesting the key information it needed to run, but it didn’t do either of these things. Instead, it blinked a few more times, slowly, before it turned its head and stared at Kyungsoo with half open, dark eyes.

“Who’re you?” it asked, voice deep and raspy like Kyungsoo had just woken the ‘Com from a long sleep. 

Kyungsoo felt like he couldn’t breathe. This wasn’t happening the way the book had said it would. “I-I’m your owner,” Kyungsoo replied numbly.

The ‘Com’s lips curved upward a bit, showing the edges of ever so slightly crooked white teeth, and it chuckled, the sound low in its chest. “I figured that out for myself, I meant what’s your name?”

The way the ‘Com was staring at him, intent and heavy, made Kyungsoo’s breath hitch. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go _at all_. “I’m. Kyungsoo.”

“Kyungsoo,” the ‘Com repeated slowly, voice dropping. “My name is Kai.”

Kyungsoo opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again to ask, “Aren’t you supposed to let me name you?”

Kai blinked. “Am I?”

Kyungsoo picked up the manual, brandishing its tattered cover. “The book says-- aren’t you just supposed to already know what the book says?” Kyungsoo could feel himself getting a bit hysterical. Jongdae had said the ‘Com should be aware of this stuff.

“I don’t know,” Kai said unsurely.

“What _do_ you know?” Kyungsoo asked, voice going higher.

“My name is Kai. Yours is Kyungsoo, and you’re my new owner.” 

Kyungsoo waited, but when nothing else was forthcoming he asked, “And?”

A pause. “I’m a Persocom.”

“ _And_?”

“I don’t think there is anything else,” Kai said nervously, sucking his bottom lip in so he could worry it between his teeth. The action was so human that Kyungsoo reeled back. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have, have _anything_?” Kyungsoo didn’t know what to do with a blank Persocom. He’d expected the ‘Com to know what to do with itself, they always do. But this one, Kai, was staring at him, clearly just as lost as he was. 

Kai struggled up onto his elbows, and then sat up the rest of the way quickly with a gasp. He crossed his arms over his chest self-consciously, and Kyungsoo could swear he was blushing. It was blushing. It.

 _He’s a machine_ , Kyungsoo reminded himself. _A machine, like a toaster, or a microwave. Just because he was made to act human doesn’t make him one_. Kyungsoo tried to imagine that Kai was a toaster, and failed. Toasters didn’t blush and cover their nipples in modesty. This was just like having another human in the house, and Kyungsoo hadn’t expected that, had expected that even in the Persocom’s mimicry of a living human, there’d always be some tell-tale sign that it was not, in fact, human. There always had been before, a subtle mechanicalness that no ‘Com could hide. This one didn’t have it. And it was setting Kyungsoo on edge, making him feel awkward and stilted and like he had to play host, of all things.

“Can I have a shirt?” Kai mumbled, staring down at the carpet. “Please?”

“I don’t have one that will fit you,” Kyungsoo replied, brain running on autopilot. “Here.” He got up and pulled the folded blanket off the back of the couch and draped it around Kai’s shoulders, careful not to touch him, “That’ll have to do for now.”

Kai moved his hands so he could hold the blanket closed in front of his chest. “Thank you.” He didn’t say anything else, just sat there in his ridiculously small pants, bare feet poking out, upper half swamped in itchy wool fabric, staring up at Kyungsoo again, waiting.

Kyungsoo rubbed his hands over his face. “Stay,” he said to Kai, and then went into his bedroom to call Jongdae.

He picked up after the third ring. “What?” Jongdae grumbled, and Kyungsoo realized it was very late and he’d just woken his friend from sleeping.

“I started the ‘Com up,” Kyungsoo hissed, keeping his voice down and glancing furtively at his bedroom door like Kai might suddenly come bounding into the room and hear him. “And he didn’t do anything the manual said he’d do.”

“I told you he might have completely customized programming,” Jongdae said with an audible yawn. “Can’t we talk about this tomorrow?”

“You don’t understand,” Kyungsoo went on, heedless of Jongdae’s request, “he told me his name. He just-- he woke up and fucking introduced himself. He went right into personality mode thingy.”

“Huh. That is weird.”

“And he doesn’t know anything, he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to act, or what he’s supposed to do. He’s sitting on my couch like a giant, gorgeous, stilted lump, staring at me incessantly. I don’t know what to do with him. This is really awkward, Jongdae. I was not prepared for it. He doesn’t act like a robot at all.”

Jongdae gusted out a sigh, and it rang staticy in Kyungsoo’s ear. “Just power him off for now. You and I both have work in the morning. You can bring him by sometime tomorrow or whenever, I’ll take a look at him.”

Kyungsoo gave a sigh of his own. “Fine. Thanks, Jongdae.”

“Mrghf,” Jongdae grumbled, and then hung up.

“That was unhelpful,” Kyungsoo muttered, putting the phone on his night stand. He went back into the living room. Kai’s dark head was bent over, and when Kyungsoo got around the couch, he saw Bun flopped across Kai’s lap, belly up and purring. Kai was giving him his full attention, diligently scratching away at the soft fur on Bun’s belly, his tan skin a sharp contrast to Bun’s snowy white fur.

Something in Kyungsoo broke at the sight. “I am too tired to deal with this,” he said, roughly scrubbing at his face. Once he’d dropped his hands, he saw Kai was back to staring at him, hands gone still. “I am going to bed. We can figure everything out in the morning.” Kyungsoo cleared his throat. “Power off.” That was one of the verbal commands he’d read about.

Kai blinked. Bun rolled over in his lap.

Kyungsoo stepped closer, bending down so his and Kai’s faces were even. He raised his voice as he slowly repeated, “Power off.” No response, though now Kai was beginning to frown in bemusement. Bun got off Kai’s lap and began kneading at his thigh, wanting more pets. “Power off. Off. OFF.” Kyungsoo had begun waggling his fingers in front of Kai’s face, as if this might help.

“Why are you yelling at me?” Kai asked. “Ow,” he added, looking down at Bun and gently disengaging a claw that had gotten caught on his pant leg.

“You’re supposed to power off,” Kyungsoo replied weakly. Some distant part of Kyungsoo’s brain noted that Kai could feel pain and catalogued that for future thought. “I am going to sleep, and I don’t want you wandering around.”

Kai sniffed, shifting his hold on his blanket so he could resume petting Bun. “I’ll sleep too, if it’ll make you feel more comfortable.”

“You can sleep?” Kyungsoo asked.

Kai nodded. “In a fashion.”

Kyungsoo mulled that over, and decided he was too tired to care properly right now. “Okay, you do that.” He stood, then was struck still by the thought that he really had nowhere for Kai to do his fake robot sleeping. “Uh, you--”

“I can sleep here, don’t worry,” Kai interrupted. “Unless you need me elsewhere.”

“Elsewhere?” Kyungsoo asked, bemused. Some redness rose to Kai’s cheeks, and Kyungsoo just thought, _Oh_. “No. I don’t need you for-- for that.” Kyungsoo didn’t know what else to say. _Thanks for offering_?

Kai seemed a bit relieved. “Alright then. Sleep well.”

“Yes.” Kyungsoo turned and walked swiftly into his bedroom, calling softly for Bun. Once the cat was in the room with him he shut the door, breathing a sigh of relief.

He didn’t like this at all.

\----

For the first time in a long while, Kyungsoo slept all the way up until his alarm went off, obnoxious in the silence. He shut if off, groaning. He felt bleary and not nearly rested enough. The moment he sat up, blinking in the dim light, Bun immediately headbutted him. Kyungsoo automatically began petting him, and as he did so, he listened. Aside from Bun’s purring, the apartment was silent. Kai must not be up yet. Or he’d run out during the night and was now wreaking havoc upon the city.

Kyungsoo got out of bed slowly, stretching, then peeked his head out of his room. Nothing was amiss. The dawn light filtering in was cool and gentle, washing the interior of his apartment in bluish grey. He carefully padded out to the sofa, Bun silent by his side, and saw Kai curled up on the worn cushions, cocooned in the blanket Kyungsoo had given him last night. He was sleeping, face peaceful. There was a subtle, slow rise and fall to Kai’s chest, mimicked breathing, and Kyungsoo stood rooted to the spot, mesmerized. His sleepy brain dimly registered that this whole situation was Really Not Good.

He stomped off to shower, scrubbing himself hard as if that would help him regain some of his common sense. All it did was make his skin go all blotchy red.

“Blararargh,” he muttered to himself, towelling off and getting dressed.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, he felt more alert and better equipped to handle the emotional fuckery that Kai threw at him.

He stood over Kai’s sleeping form. Bun had hopped up and was perched on Kai’s thigh. He was purring happily. “Oi,” Kyungsoo said, sticking a finger out and prodding in the vicinity of Kai’s shoulder. “Wake up.”

“Mm?” Kai mumbled, rolling over so he could sit up. He looked up at Kyungsoo, rubbing one of his eyes blearily even as a lazy smile spread across his face. “Good morning.”

Kyungsoo swallowed thickly. “Good morning.”

“You’re up early,” Kai said. He looked Kyungsoo up and down, taking in the jeans and faded t-shirt. “Are you going out?”

“Yes.” Kai’s smile wavered at the clipped answer, and Kyungsoo scrubbed his hands over his face. “Sorry, I-- I don’t know how to do this.”

Kai frowned, staring at him. Kyungsoo couldn’t get over the way Kai looked at him. He wanted to say Kai was very focused, but that wasn’t right. Kyungsoo could just tell that when Kai looked at him, he was really _looking_ , absorbing and cataloguing. It didn’t make Kyungsoo feel scrutinized per se, it just made him feel very open.

Finally, Kai asked slowly, “Am I-- that is, you’re my owner?”

“I thought we’d already said last night that I’m your owner.” Kyungsoo squinted down at Kai, wondering if maybe he’d been dumped because of a memory problem.

“I’m confused,” Kai said softly. He looked away, sparing Kyungsoo the feeling of being laid bare. “You seem like-- like you don’t want me here, and, and you must, because you bought me-- but you don’t have any clothes or room for me, don’t know what you want me to do, and seem like you don’t like talking to me-- I’m just confused.” Kai gathered Bun up in his arms, the cat purring happily.

“I didn’t buy you,” Kyungsoo replied gently. He sat down beside Kai on the couch, a good foot of space between them. “I found you.” _And I took you home instead of giving you away for scraps, and I don’t quite know why._

“Found me?” Kai’s eyes had gone wide. “Where?”

Kyungsoo was too tired for this. “In an alley,” Kyungsoo mumbled, staring down at Kai’s thigh where Bun’s tail was swishing happily, “by-- by a dumpster.”

Kai’s face froze. “Someone threw me away?” he whispered numbly. Kyungsoo nodded and Kai recoiled infinitesimally, like he was working hard to not show any outward emotion but couldn’t stop himself. Kyungsoo had to remind himself all over again that Kai wasn’t a real person. It was getting harder to remember. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Kyungsoo replied. “We couldn’t find anything wrong with you per se, that’s why I took you home, to see if--” Kyungsoo stopped himself. Kai looked so vulnerable, he didn’t want to make this any worse for him. He probably should have held off holding this conversation for a few days. If he even still had Kai in a few days.

But Kai wasn’t having it. “To see if...?”

“To see if you ran okay, if your programming was alright,” Kyungsoo finished softly.

“And it isn’t,” Kai muttered, eyes going shuttered. He looked down at Bun, scratching him slowly. “I think I run fine, but my programming-- it isn’t right, is it?” Kyungsoo was silent, because honestly, Kai’s programming was definitely abnormal, but he couldn’t really say exactly the extent of the abnormality. Kai took the silence as an answer. Without looking up he asked, “Will you get rid of me too, now?”

“I don’t-- I honestly hadn’t planned--” Kyungsoo didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know the answer.

Kai’s head shot up so he could look at Kyungsoo, face twisted and afraid. “Please, don’t. I can be whatever you need me to be. I don’t want to be tossed out again.”

“I don’t know if I need you to be anything at all--” Kyungsoo started, and Kai resumed chewing his bottom lip, eyes widening, “but you can stay, for now,” he finished, without really thinking about it.

The tenseness left Kai’s shoulders and he gave Kyungsoo a gentle, shy smile, and Kyungsoo decided he _hated_ this. “Thank you.”

Kyungsoo swallowed thickly, looking away from Kai’s dark eyes and his lovely long lashes and pretty white teeth-- “It’s fine. If nothing else, you can keep Bun company while I’m away.” The traitorous cat was still sitting placidly in Kai’s arms. “He really likes you.”

“Cats like warm things,” Kai said with a half-shrug, the flat tone of his voice implying he was reading it off an info page of some kind. Maybe he was. Kyungsoo would have to ask Jongdae about wi-fi; some ‘Coms went through companies and just had it automatically upon purchase. Those were rather expensive but everything about Kai so far suggested he was a costly ‘Com anyway. “I’m warmer than you.”

Without thinking Kyungsoo reached over, gently placing the back of his hand on Kai’s cheek. Kai _was_ warm. If he were human, Kyungsoo would have said he was feverish. He pulled his hand back, skin prickling, and gave Bun a pat. “You are.”

“I can adjust it, if you don’t like it,” Kai said quickly.

Kyungsoo pulled back fully, expression turning quizzical. “I don’t mind. And to be honest, I think I’d rather you just be you, instead of, uhm, scrambling to please me?”

Kai blinked. “You’re not used to being doted on.” It wasn’t a question.

“I just want to see what you’re like, without you trying to bend over backwards to be what you think I want, if that makes sense?” Kyungsoo needed to get a handle on his programming. So far there hadn’t been any axe murderer signs, but he still needed to keep an eye out for glitches.

“I can do that,” Kai said, smiling shyly. Kyungsoo’s breath caught in his chest.

Both of them jumped when Kyungsoo’s phone vibrated. He reached into his pocket, reading the text displayed on the screen.

_Where r u? Everything ok?_

It was from Junmyeon, who rarely texted. Kyungsoo saw that, then his eyes slid over to the time and he very nearly shrieked, jumping to his feet. “Oh fuck, I am so late.”

“Late?” Kai asked as Kyungsoo ran to his bedroom, hurriedly tugging on his hoodie.

“Work! Late for work. Crap.” Kyungsoo went into the kitchen, put Bun’s food down, then grabbed a granola bar for himself. 

“Can I come?” Kai asked meekly, following Kyungsoo as he darted around the apartment.

“What?” Kyungsoo paused in the middle of yanking on his shoes. “No. You don’t have shoes. Or a shirt.”

“Oh,” Kai said, and he looked a bit lost.

“I’ll be back in the afternoon, and when I’m back we’ll go over some ground rules, okay? While I’m gone you can watch TV or read or-- whatever Persocoms do in the day.” Kyungsoo gave him a bright smile, trying to assuage Kai’s nervousness.

Kai smiled back, but more softly. “Have a good day.”

Kyungsoo’s stomach flip flopped. “Bye.”

\----

“I’m so sorry!” Kyungsoo yelled as he flew through to door of the coffee shop. He was breathless from running.

Junmyeon was behind the counter, rinsing one of the blender cups out. He turned with a look of surprised amusement on his face. “It’s fine, Kyungsoo. I figured you were preoccupied with the ‘Com.”

Kyungsoo wheezed a bit, tugging on his apron. Chanyeol came barreling out of the back, some food substance shoved in his face. “Late!” he cried, scone bits flying out of his mouth as he pointed gleefully at Kyungsoo.

“You’re disgusting and have no right to talk,” Kyungsoo snapped, wiping Chanyeol’s face with a napkin. “You’re _always_ late.”

Junmyeon wiped the blender cup dry, setting it back in its proper place. “Everything alright? You seem a bit flustered.”

“I kind of regret taking the ‘Com home,” Kyungsoo admitted.

Junmyeon’s face grew unusually solemn. “You can give it back to Jongdae if you want.”

Kyungsoo shuffled his feet, staring down. “I know. It’s alright, though. For now.” He was afraid to meet Junmyeon’s eyes.

“Just. Be careful, okay?” Junmyeon’s voice was gentle.

Chanyeol leaned over, squinting at the pair of them. “Why does he need to be careful? Are you worried his ‘Com is an axe murderer too?” 

Both Kyungsoo and Junmyeon sighed.

\----

The whole time Kyungsoo worked, he was preoccupied with thoughts of Kai. It was making him dazed and a bit slow. He could see Chanyeol giving him curious looks but when their shift was over, Chanyeol merely said, “Come by the thrift shop and visit Baekhyun with me.”

But Kyungsoo shook his head. He was too antsy to get home. “I need to make sure Kai hasn’t, I don’t know, massacred my neighbors or something.”

“Will you be bringing him by the shop?” Junmyeon asked.

“I don’t have any shoes for him,” Kyungsoo admitted. “Or pants.”

Junmyeon laughed. “If Jongdae isn’t busy, I’ll tell him to stop by your apartment later?”

“That sounds good,” Kyungsoo replied absently as he walked through the door. “Have him text me!”

\----

Kyungsoo’s apartment building was quiet. Not in a horror story sort of way, but in a peaceful way. He forced his racing heart to slow, and eased up his frantic pace. 

The door to his apartment was closed, just as it had been when he’d left. There were no ominous blood splatters about. Kyungsoo shifted his grip on the plastic bags he was holding -- he’d made a quick stop into a large department store to get Kai some cheap clothes that would hopefully fit -- and fiddled with his keys. His front door swung open before he could fit the right key into the lock. 

Kai stood there, holding the door open with one hand, Bun cradled in the crook of his other arm. He looked just as lovely as he had that morning. He smiled at Kyungsoo, a bit shy. “Hey,” Kai said.

“Uh, hello,” Kyungsoo said as he stepped into the apartment, swerving so he avoided touching Kai. “Glad to see you’re-- uh--” he made sweeping gesture up and down Kai’s form, “alright.” 

Kai blinked at him quizzically. “Yes, I am alright.” 

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo said lamely. “Yeah.” 

Kai had let go of the door, and it swung shut agonizingly slowly with a long creak. When it finally clicked shut, Kai opened his mouth to say something, but Kyungsoo beat him to it. “So, I bought you some-- stuff.” He held the bag out in Kai’s direction. 

Kai looked surprised, but he carefully set Bun down and took the bag from Kyungsoo’s hand. He rummaged through it and seemed pleased when he pulled out a shirt. “Thank you,” he said, genuine relief in his voice. 

Kyungsoo blushed. “They’re just-- I don’t even know if they’ll fit, I bought a few different brands and sizes just in case.”

Kai pulled out a pair of sweatpants, and now that Kyungsoo was looking at them next to Kai’s form, they were clearly too large around the waist. But the legs looked to be the right length, and the waistband had a drawstring, so they could be tightened so they wouldn’t slide off Kai’s slim hips. 

Kai tugged the shirt on over his head, covering a large portion of his distracting golden skin, and Kyungsoo blew a silent breath out of his mouth. Then Kai stood holding the sweatpants awkwardly, staring at Kyungsoo with uncertain eyes. “Can I-- go somewhere else to put these on?” he asked meekly.

Kyungsoo inhaled sharply, realizing he’d been ogling. “Oh! Yeah, yeah, you don’t have to-- yeah. You can use my bedroom.” 

Kai gave him another gentle smile, and then padded off, leaving Kyungsoo in the entranceway with Bun. The cat rubbed against Kyungsoo’s shins and meowed. 

“I’m so awkward,” Kyungsoo mumbled, rubbing his hands over his eyes. “He’s hot. Why do they make Persocoms hot.” He looked at Bun. “Help me.”

Bun meowed again. 

Kyungsoo’s phone buzzed, and he pulled it out of his pocket. It was a text from Jongdae.

_Coming over to check on the axe murderer_

Kyungsoo scowled down at the screen. _Fine_ , he sent back.

He wandered into his living room, and stopped short. There was a large cardboard box sitting beside his coffee table. “Kai,” he called, “where did this box come from?”

“Someone delivered it while you were out,” came Kai’s muffled response. 

Kyungsoo frowned down at the box, moving to sit down on the floor beside it. It had his address written on it, but no return address, and, even weirder, no postage on it. It wasn’t even taped closed, but rather the flaps were folded together to keep it from popping open. 

“If it’s a bomb, I want you to know I love you,” Kyungsoo said seriously to Bun, who simply blinked at him.

But it wasn’t a bomb, Kyungsoo saw upon opening it, it was-- clothes. Kyungsoo pulled a sweater out, baffled. It was striped blue, red, and white, and was far too large for him. “What even--” Kyungsoo mumbled, pulling out a pair of jeans that were again, too big for him. 

The bedroom door opened with a soft sound, and Kyungsoo looked up as Kai approached. The sweatpants were quite baggy, but he looked better now, with his ankles covered. He’d put on one of the pairs of socks Kyungsoo had bought him as well. Kyungsoo wondered if he’d put on one of the boxer briefs as well, but didn’t know how to ask. 

“Clothes?” Kai asked, as he stopped beside Kyungsoo, staring down into the box. 

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo replied, still holding the jeans up by the waistband. “I don’t--” He stopped suddenly as he realized something. He raised his hands and placed the waistband of the jeans against Kai’s hips. They seemed to match perfectly, and the leg length was just right as well. “What the fuck.”

Kai looked equally baffled as he took the jeans from Kyungsoo’s hands. He examined them. “They seem a bit worn,” he said. 

Kyungsoo began tugging things out of the box in earnest, pulling out more jeans, some shirts and hoodies, a few pairs of sweatpants. At the bottom of the box was a pair of black boots, and a pair of sneakers. Nothing in the box had any tags, and everything seemed used, but it was all in good shape, and the vast majority of items were name brands. 

“Do these fit you?” Kyungsoo asked, brandishing a sneaker. 

Kai sat on the edge of the coffee table to pull the shoe on. It fit. Kai stared down at it in bewilderment. 

“What the fuck,” Kyungsoo said again. “Someone just randomly sent me a box of clothes that fit you? Do you-- are these _your_ clothes?”

Kai pulled the sneaker off and gingerly placed it atop the small mountain of clothes on the floor. “I don’t know,” he said. “I haven’t-- I don’t remember any of this.”

“You said someone delivered them,” Kyungsoo said. “What did they look like it?”

Kai’s face blanked out a little, looking eerily like a machine’s. “It was a man, slightly shorter than me, wearing a uniform,” he said, tone flat. “Light hair, small dainty face.” Kai blinked, and suddenly he looked human again. “I could draw you a picture, if you want.”

“You can draw?” Kyungsoo asked.

“I think so,” Kai replied. 

“Maybe later,” Kyungsoo mumbled, then said at normal volume, “and you didn’t recognize him?”

Kai looked at him in confusion. “Yours is the only face I know,” he said, his tone of voice implying that this was utterly obvious. 

That struck something in Kyungsoo, and he looked away, frowning down at the box. “We’ll have to look into this.” Could Kai’s old owner be keeping tabs on him? The idea was unsettling. Why dump a ‘Com out in the rain and then do this? It didn’t make sense. 

_Maybe Kai isn’t an axe murderer, but his old owner is_ , Kyungsoo thought. “Do you, uh, want to wear any of this stuff? It looks like it’ll fit you better than the things I got you.”

Kai eyed the clothes. “No. I like the things you got me more.” He met Kyungsoo’s eyes, face solemn, and Kyungsoo blushed a bit. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“This has-- upset you.”

“It’s not your fault,” Kyungsoo said with a shrug. _Not really_. 

There was a knock at the door, and both of them jumped. “That’ll be Jongdae,” Kyungsoo said, heart hammering. He stood and walked to the door.

“Jongdae?” Kai asked.

“He’s-- my friend,” Kyungsoo said. Belatedly he realized he probably should have explained who Jongdae was before he’d gotten here, but he’d gotten sidetracked by the mysterious box. 

He opened the door, and even though he wasn’t _really_ expecting there to be an axe wielding murderer on his step, he was still relieved to see Jongdae’s stupid face. Jongdae was wearing his thickly rimmed glasses rather than his contacts and holding what looked like a laptop case.

“Where is it?” Jongdae asked, shoving past Kyungsoo into the apartment. He saw Kai sitting placidly at the edge of the coffee table and whirled on Kyungsoo. “You called me at ass o’clock last night over this?” He gestured at Kai.

“I told you, I’ve never dealt with a Persocom before,” Kyungsoo said. “And I didn’t know what to do, he wasn’t-- wasn’t acting like the manual said he would.”

“Yes, you said it didn’t go right into default mode?” Jongdae asked, and Kyungsoo nodded. “Has it gone into default mode since then? Maybe when it came out of sleep state this morning?” Again, Kyungsoo shook his head. “Hmm.”

Kai stood up slowly, hands wringing in front of him. He was a bit red, and he looked-- frightened. “Who is-- why--” Kai began. 

Kyungsoo jumped in, wanting to assuage his fears. “Like I said,” he said quickly, “Jongdae’s a friend. You don’t have to be afraid of him. He runs a tech shop downtown. He looked you over, after I first found you.”

“Oh,” Kai said softly, shuffling his feet. “Thank you,” he mumbled, not meeting Jongdae’s eyes.

Jongdae was frowning. “It is exceedingly lifelike, isn’t it?”

“I thought that was just-- me. Not being used to ‘Coms,” Kyungsoo confessed, and Jongdae shook his head. 

“No. I mean, like I said, a lot of people get their ‘Coms worked over, but-- this is a whole other level,” Jongdae said. He was still frowning, but his tone was awed. “All the little mannerisms, the blushing, the fidgeting, the way its voice catches-- that all has to be programmed in, not just the actions themselves but all the circumstances that have to come together to trigger them. Its a convincing model.”

Kai was biting down on his lip, hard. He seemed-- Kyungsoo couldn’t quite pin the emotion down. But it was clear Jongdae was scaring him. “Kyungsoo,” Kai said softly, looking at Kyungsoo pleadingly, like Kyungsoo could protect him. 

Kyungsoo swallowed thickly. Jongdae being in the room was a sharp reminder that Kai _was_ a machine, a bundle of exceedingly complex programming. “It’s alright,” Kyungsoo said, unable to not comfort Kai in some way, machine or no. 

“Are you-- getting rid of me?” Kai asked.

Jongdae looked at Kyungsoo as well. Kyungsoo sidestepped the question by saying, “Jongdae’s here to look you over again, since you were powered off the last time he saw you. He isn’t here to collect you, or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Jongdae’s expression had gone oddly shuttered. He went to the coffee table, and as he did so Kai skittered out of his way, moving to hide behind Kyungsoo. Jongdae pulled a laptop out of the bag, resting it on the table and flipping it open and on. As he pulled out a bunch of cords, he said, “Junmyeon said you were a bit preoccupied at work.” His tone was unusually flat. 

“Kai’s a bit preoccupying,” Kyungsoo said, trying to sound nonchalant. Kai had grasped Kyungsoo’s arm, hugging it close, like that would protect him from Jongdae and his sinister wires. 

“Kai,” Jongdae repeated, as he plugged all the cords into his laptop. 

“That’s his name, he says,” Kyungsoo said, staring at Kai in bewilderment as the ‘Com continued to hold onto his arm for dear life. 

“Yeah, well, _Kai_ needs to come over here, so we can see if I can get into its programming with any more success now,” Jongdae said, holding up the charging wire for his laptop. “Can I plug this in somewhere?”

Kyungsoo pointed to the outlet by the lamp, and then pulled his arm away from Kai, who looked stricken. “It’s alright,” Kyungsoo repeated, bewildered and trying not to let Kai’s terrified expression tug on his heartstrings. “Why are you so afraid? I told you, he won’t hurt you.” Kai just continued to stare at him, so Kyungsoo took his hand and led him to the couch. He sat down, and after a moment of hesitation, Kai sat down beside him.

Kyungsoo took a second to remind himself that Kai not human, and not capable of real fear. 

“What’s up with the mountain of clothes?” Jongdae asked from where he was plugging his laptop in.

“Long story, sort of,” Kyungsoo said tersely. Kai had scooted so he was pressed against Kyungsoo’s side, and Kyungsoo could feel him trembling. He reached out and wrapped his fingers loosely around Kai’s. 

Jongdae came sauntering back. “Well, I am glad to see Kai really doesn’t seem to have any mobility issues. It moves just like a person.”

“You said he didn’t seem like he would have any issues in that regard,” Kyungsoo pointed out.

“Yeah, well,” Jongdae said vaguely. He sat on the edge of the coffee table, facing Kai, and grabbed his laptop, setting it on his lap. The wires followed, looking like limp tentacles. After tapping his keyboard for a second he said, “Okay, we can get started.” He reached for Kai’s left earport, and Kai jerked back. 

Jongdae frowned. “Let me.” 

“He doesn’t respond to verbal commands,” Kyungsoo said. “Not as an automated response, anyway.”

“I don’t want him to-- do whatever he’s going to do,” Kai said, eyeing the wires. 

Jongdae frowned more deeply, and Kyungsoo reached up, to Kai’s earport. Kai held still for him, but he seemed unhappy as the port slid open.

“It’s not going to hurt, I promise,” Kyungsoo said. “Let him do his job. He just wants to make sure your programming is sound.” Kai nodded, expression miserable.

Jongdae watched the exchange silently. When Kai turned his head to the side, baring the open port, Jongdae set to work, connecting the wires in. Then he moved to the other side, and this time, Kai let him slide the port open. Kyungsoo could see Kai’s little blue power switch glowing in the dim light.

Once all the wires were where they needed to be, Jongdae turned his attention back to his screen, beginning to type in earnest. Kyungsoo sat stiffly, unsure what to do. 

Kai’s trembling ceased. When Kyungsoo looked over to him, he saw his eyes had dropped to half mast, gaze downward, his lips slightly parted. He looked-- dazed. His mimicked breathing had even stopped. 

“Did you break him?” Kyungsoo asked, heart skipping a beat. He squeezed Kai’s wrist, and got no response. 

The edges of Jongdae’s mouth were tense. “No, I--”

There was a _bzzt_ noise, and then the light from Jongdae’s computer screen abruptly flickered off. Jongdae tapped the side of the screen, looking alarmed, and as he did that Kai blinked, taking a deep breath. 

“What happened?” Kai asked Kyungsoo, and Kyungsoo blinked at him.

“I think it just fried my comp,” Jongdae said in disbelief. He poked at the power switch, and nothing happened. “You asshole.”

“Hey,” Kyungsoo said, “be nice, he didn’t do it on purpose.”

Jongdae glared at him. “I didn’t get anything out of it aside from a brief glimpse into its coding, and then my computer-- died.”

“And that’s... bad, right?” Kyungsoo guessed.

“I don’t know what it is, since it’s never happened before.” He eyed Kai with new assessment, muttering something about protective coding, and how he wasn’t about to be bested by a stupid ‘Com. 

“I’m broken, aren’t I?” Kai asked softly. “I’m-- not right.”

“You run fine,” Kyungsoo said, squeezing Kai’s wrist again. This time Kai smiled at him weakly. “You’re just different.”

“Can I talk to you?” Jongdae asked stiffly, standing.

Kyungsoo stood as well, a little confused. As Jongdae led him to the bedroom, Kai asked, “Can I take these out?” He motioned to the wires.

“Sure,” Kyungsoo called back before Jongdae shut the bedroom door, giving them some privacy.

“I don’t like this,” Jongdae said seriously. 

“What?” Kyungsoo asked.

“All of this. Kai’s-- not right, something is off,” Jongdae said, and dread settled in Kyungsoo’s stomach. “It doesn’t make sense, Kyungsoo. It’s too detailed, someone gave it so much attention, I can’t understand why someone would just toss it out. I am beginning to think no one did.”

Kyungsoo felt himself frown. “What do you mean?”

“I think it may have been stolen,” Jongdae said flatly. “Maybe they were planning on reselling it-- I can’t say. It’s either that or someone got a little too liberal with the programming and Kai did something a ‘Com really isn’t supposed to do.”

Kyungsoo nibbled his bottom lip. “Like?”

“I don’t know, something-- something really not good,” Jongdae muttered. “I don’t think you should keep it, Kyungsoo. There’s just something not meshing right here, and Kai’s previous owner was obviously very rich. The level of security on the hard drive is-- unsettling, to say the least. It makes him wonder who owned it previously. I am afraid keeping it here may put you in danger.”

“I--” Kyungsoo began, then shut his mouth. He thought about the box of clothes. Surely if Kai’s previous owner was some serial killer drug lord, he would have sent Kyungsoo a hit man, and not a box of used clothing. “Kai hasn’t done anything bad,” he said softly. “He’s actually seemed quite gentle.”

“That’s another thing,” Jongdae said. “You’re-- you’re already attached. It’s not good, Kyungsoo. I think for your sake, it’s better if I take Kai off your hands now, before--” Jongdae stopped himself.

Kyungsoo bristled, a little. “Before what, Jongdae?” he asked sharply. 

“Before you get hurt,” Jongdae whispered. “He’s a machine, Kyungsoo.”

Kyungsoo heard the wisdom of Jongdae’s words, they were echoing the warning bells within himself, but his pride kicked in. “I’ll be alright. If anything happens that sends my alarm bells ringing-- I’ll tell you. But right now you need to focus on getting your laptop fixed, and I-- I don’t want to get rid of him yet,” Kyungsoo mumbled the last part, not meeting Jongdae’s eyes.

Jongdae sighed. “Alright.” he didn’t sound happy. “Just-- be careful.” He placed a hand on Kyungsoo’s shoulder for a brief moment and then opened the bedroom door, stepping out of it. 

\----

Kyungsoo went to bed early, unable to handle being alone with Kai. Jongdae had hit the nail on the head more than he knew. It had only been pride that had kept Kyungsoo from admitting it aloud, but he was in trouble. 

Kyungsoo had a lot to think about.

When the morning came around and Kyungsoo’s alarm went off, Kyungsoo felt better. The dawn light was peeking through his windows, and Bun came over to happily bump against Kyungsoo’s hand. As he scratched Bun’s head, he felt more capable of handling things. He wasn’t going to fall in love with a human shaped toaster. He refused.

“You can do this,” he mumbled as he rolled out of bed. “You can do this.”

Last night, when Kai had been frightened, it had hurt. It was foolish, but it had. Kyungsoo couldn’t allow that sort of emotion. He had to be more like Jongdae, had to regard Kai as a thing. He was a thing. 

Kyungsoo stomped out of his room, full of resolve, spine tense. Kai had, once again, gone to sleep on the couch. Before he’d laid down to sleep he’d tugged his shirt off, saying shyly that he slept better like that, and it had made Kyungsoo’s heart flip flop. But today would be different. Today, he would be ice, and he would not be affected by Kai’s fake skin, no matter how golden and smooth it was. 

The living room was full of dawn sunlight, but Kai was still sleeping. Kyungsoo walked to the cough, puffed up on determined energy, and deflated the moment he saw Kai’s face, soft in sleep. He was burrowed under the blanket, knees pulled up some to keep his feet from dangling off the edge of the couch. 

Bun hopped up on Kai’s blanket-clad form, kneading to make himself comfortable. Kai shifted, snuffling a bit, but didn’t wake. He let out a sleepy sigh while he snuggled further into the pillow, lips parting slightly as his body went fully lax again. Kyungsoo almost physically felt his resolve crack.

“Fuck,” Kyungsoo muttered furiously under his breath. He strode into the bathroom quickly, shutting the door and then locking it. “Fuck fuck fuck.”

Jongdae was right, Kyungsoo couldn’t keep Kai, he decided as he was showering. Kai was far too real, too human, and Kyungsoo’s impartiality was already in tatters, and they’d barely even really spoken. The last thing he wanted was to get seriously attached to a robot, or to be concerned with and responsible for the emotional well-being of said robot. This whole situation was trouble, trouble decked out in neon signs. Kyungsoo was beginning to understand why Jongdae and Junmyeon wouldn’t bring an activated ‘Com into their home. It was a smarter choice than Kyungsoo had realized.

Kyungsoo would manually power Kai off, go to work, and then have Jongdae come by and pick Kai up after they were both off. Then he’d have his apartment back to himself and could relax and wash his hands of this.

He thought coming to a decision would bring relief, but as he stepped out of the shower and towelled himself dry, he found his stomach was actually heavy with dread.

“Just worry about yourself, Kyungsoo,” he mumbled, pulling his jeans and t-shirt on. “Kai isn’t your problem. He-- It’s a robot. You need to do what’s best for you.” Kyungsoo took a deep breath and marched out of the bathroom. Kai was still sleeping, and Kyungsoo eyed his earport. He needed to get it open and flip the tiny switch inside, and then this would all be over.

As he leaned down, Bun rose, giving a loud meow, and Kyungsoo startled. Kai rolled over, mumbling, and then his eyes fluttered open. When he saw Kyungsoo he sat up, hair tousled and indents from the pillow on one side of his face. He gave Kyungsoo a small smile, blanket slipping off one shoulder. 

He was, arguably, the loveliest thing Kyungsoo had ever laid eyes on.

“Good morning,” Kai said softly, voice deep and raspy from sleep. His large, dark eyes swept up and down Kyungsoo’s form. This was apparently a habit. “I didn’t mean to sleep so long again. Did you sleep alright?”

Kyungsoo reached out, pinched the edge of the blanket between his thumb and forefinger, and tugged it up so it covered Kai’s exposed shoulder. The extra skin was distracting, even if it was fake. “Yes,” Kyungsoo said stiffly, holding onto his willpower with an iron fist, “I slept fine.”

Kai blinked up at him, smile dissipating. “You’re unhappy.”

Kyungsoo steeled himself. “I need to get at your earport, so I can hit your power switch.”

Kai froze, breath hitching. Kyungsoo sat beside him, and Kai followed the movement with wide-eyes. “Why?”

Kyungsoo bit his bottom lip, hard. He didn’t have to answer, he didn’t owe Kai any words of comfort. Kai was a machine with no real emotion, the fear in his eyes was all programming, artificial and cold. “Because,” Kyungsoo said simply, reaching out to touch Kai’s earport.

Kai’s whole body tensed up like he’d been shocked, though he didn’t jerk away even though he clearly wanted to. Kyungsoo determinately didn’t look at his face as he pressed the edge of the earport so it slid open. “You’re getting rid of me,” Kai said flatly, and Kyungsoo’s hand faltered. “It’s alright,” Kai added, gently, even as he swallowed thickly. “I can tell you’re afraid of me.”

Kyungsoo recoiled, snatching his hand back. “What?”

“I make you nervous, and uncomfortable,” Kai mumbled. “You have an expressive face.”

“I just-- I never wanted a Persocom,” Kyungsoo said quickly. “It’s not-- you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I did though, didn’t I? Because someone threw me out. Didn’t even try to resell me, just-- just tossed me out with the trash.” Kai blinked rapidly, eyes shining, and Kyungsoo thought he might throw up. He’d never seen a Persocom cry, hadn’t really known they even could. “And you’re getting rid of me too, and I _know_ there’s something wrong with me for sure, because you want it, you want me gone, and I’m a Persocom, and we’re supposed to want whatever our owners want, but I don’t. I don’t want to be tossed out again.”

“I’m not going to throw you away,” Kyungsoo said, compelled to somehow make this easier on Kai. The fact that Kai wanted to stay here, with him, weighed heavily on his conscience. “I’ll give you to Jongdae, he’ll--” Kyungsoo stopped himself there, because with a jolt he realized that Jongdae would rip Kai apart, use him for the few parts he had that did work properly.

It didn’t matter that Kyungsoo didn’t finish his sentence, because Kai had raised his hands and was saying, “Stop, stop, please, I don’t want to know.” Kai shook his head, hands slowly falling to rest on his knees. He stared down at them, and as he did so the tension fell out of his body, leaving him somehow smaller. “Do what you think is best for you. Thank you for fishing me out of the trash and-- and taking me home, even though it didn’t work out. Thank you for not just leaving me there.”

Kyungsoo didn’t know what to say, wasn’t sure he could say anything at all. Kai’s power switch glinted cobalt blue in the morning light. Kyungsoo reached for it, brushing aside Kai’s soft dark hair. Kai shivered under Kyungsoo’s touch, hands balling into fists on his knees, but still he didn’t pull away.

“I’m sorry I’m not what you wanted,” Kai whispered, closing his eyes.

Kyungsoo flinched, hand pulling back slightly. It wasn’t true. Kai was everything Kyungsoo had ever wanted, and that was the _problem_ , Kyungsoo thought with despair. Kai was everything Kyungsoo dreamt about in the deepest part of himself, presented to him by fate in a twisted mockery of what he’d actually desired.

Kai was everything Kyungsoo had longed for in a _person_ , and he wasn’t one, would never be one.

As Kyungsoo mulled that over, he realized that he didn’t know what to do, his mind running in logic circles. Keeping Kai would hurt, but so would getting rid of him.

“What do _you_ want?” Kyungsoo asked against his better judgement, because he was a glutton for punishment apparently. It was like some sick part of himself wanted to get talked out of this, even though he knew it wasn’t in his better interest. 

Kai’s eyes blinked open. “I want to stay here, with you,” he said quickly. He was trembling.

 _I’m hurting him_ , Kyungsoo thought, even as the logical part of him brain shouted that this was all programming and Kai couldn’t actually feel real pain. It did nothing to assuage the guilt, or Kyungsoo’s desire to make it better, somehow.

“But why?” Kyungsoo asked, genuinely baffled. “I haven’t been very nice to you.”

“Because,” Kai began, “you found me, and took me home, and you _have_ been kind to me. You could have been cold and aloof but instead you’re clearly concerned about me, about my feelings, even though, just as clearly, you’re somewhat skittish around me.” A pause. “Also I like your voice.”

Kyungsoo blinked. “My voice?”

Kai nodded. “And your face.” He looked around. “And the cat.”

“Would it make you happy, if I kept you?” Kyungsoo whispered, barely audible.

Another, longer pause. “It would make me happy,” Kai replied slowly, “if _you_ were happy.”

Kyungsoo let that sink in, and something in him broke again. His mind came to a decision without his consent. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t.

He couldn’t give Kai up, even if it meant more trouble in the long run. He just couldn’t.

Kai was still staring at him, eyes large and unsure. He had such a beautiful face.

“Alright,” Kyungsoo said, and it came out a bit croaky. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Alright.” He reached out, to Kai’s earport, but instead of flipping the switch he simply slid the port closed. “We can try this, try it properly.”

Kai slumped in relief. “Please don’t do that to me again.”

“I’ll try not to,” Kyungsoo replied tiredly. And he meant it. He wanted this to work out. And it should. It _really_ should.

Kai smiled at him, his eyes soft. “Thank you.”

Kyungsoo’s heart stuttered a bit, at the way Kai was looking at him. He smiled back, before he could help it, the stupid smile that made his cheeks bunch and his eyes practically disappear. 

“That’s the first real smile I’ve seen on you,” Kai mused, head tilting to the side. “I think I like it,” he said, his voice dropping a little.

There was warmth spreading in Kyungsoo’s chest, and Jongdae’s voice echoed in Kyungsoo’s mind. 

_Be careful_ , he’d said.

As Kyungsoo stared at Kai’s dark eyes, his sweet smile, he realized it was already far too late for that.


End file.
